Mallory The Interoir Designer
by Red Witch
Summary: Spymasters do not make good decorators.


**The disclaimer telling you that I don't own any Archer characters has been shot up. I don't even own this idea. I got it from the Art of Archer book. And a discarded idea. Which gave me an idea.**

 **Mallory The Interior Designer **

"Well what do you think?" Mallory opened her arms with a flourish. She was showing off her new office. "I had Krieger fix up my office while he was doing repairs!"

The remaining members of the Figgis Agency looked around her newly redecorated office. "I think white is a bad choice for an office carpet," Ray remarked.

"Who cares what you think Elsie Mc **Ray**?" Mallory snapped.

"You do," Cheryl pointed out. "You just asked him for his opinion. Along with the rest of us."

"And he's right," Pam said. "White is a bad choice for a carpet color."

"Not a good idea," Krieger agreed. "Unless you want your floor to end up looking like a Jackson Pollock painting."

"How much of the agency's money did you **spend** on this?" Cyril snapped. "Because I can tell you right now it's too much!"

"I know right?" Cheryl snorted. "She got so ripped off…"

"Those gold lamps are a little tacky," Lana said honestly.

"How much did you **spend** on this?" Cyril yelled.

"ALL RIGHT! SHUT UP!" Mallory snapped. "Now I remember why I don't ask for the opinions of you idiots!"

"You're right," Ray said to Lana. "Those are a little tacky."

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Mallory screamed. "Look I had a good reason for doing this…?"

"How much did you spend?" Cyril shouted.

"Not as much as you think! GOD!" Mallory shouted. "I paid for most of it!"

"You mean you tricked **Ron** into paying for most of it?" Cyril sighed.

"There is a very good reason I did this!" Mallory said. "It's for the agency!"

"You mean it just wasn't for **yourself**?" Ray asked sarcastically.

"This should be good," Pam rolled her eyes.

"Look there's this show," Mallory explained. "Office Spaces with Myra Places."

"Myra Places?" Lana asked.

"Not her real name," Ray said. "She's a famous decorator to the stars and the rich."

"Yes well…" Mallory began.

"Her real name is Myra Muckerdump," Ray added. "But she changed it for obvious reasons."

"I get it," Pam nodded. "Not even Oscar the Grouch would hire a decorator named Muckerdump."

"Exactly," Ray said. "And Places is catchier."

"Like you lot and… Name a venereal disease!" Mallory snapped. "Anyway, if I get on this show she can decorate my office."

"But didn't you **just** decorate your office **now**?" Lana asked.

"Yes," Mallory sighed. "But just enough so that I can get Myra to decorate it **again**. And it will be great publicity for the agency!"

Ray looked at her incredulously. "Your son is in a coma. The agency is in the middle of a scandal and losing money. And your response to this crisis is **redecorating** **your office?"**

"So you can be on a stupid TV show?" Lana added.

"It's not stupid! Look those forty something bimbos back in New York are on a television show," Mallory spoke up.

"You're talking about the ones on the Ultimate Ladies of New York, right?" Ray asked. "The ones that replaced you in high society after the rest of high society got sick of you?"

"There were **other factors** why I fell out of high society!" Mallory snapped. "Admittedly those bitches are one reason."

"The others are the blackmail, the fires, the deaths," Cheryl spoke up. "The bomb threats. You sleeping around with everyone else's husbands and other male relatives…"

"Shut up!" Mallory glared at her.

"Mr. Archer sleeping with everyone's wives, daughters and **female** relatives," Cheryl added on. "You insulting pretty much everyone because you're a complete bitch."

"Including Trudy Beekman," Pam added. "Who let's face it is pretty much the Head Honcho of high society."

"Don't forget the fact she lost almost all of her money," Ray added. "That's a factor too."

"Didn't she pull a gun on someone at some party when they refused her alcohol?" Cheryl asked.

"It was a waiter!" Mallory snapped. "Who I'm pretty sure was probably an illegal anyway."

"Not to mention all your other illegal schemes which bit you in the ass," Cheryl asked. "Then there's…"

"ALL RIGHT! I GET IT!" Mallory shouted. "Now shut up before you lot **get it!"**

"And let me guess," Lana sighed. "Trudy Beekman has been on this show am I right?"

"Actually, it was Cornelia Von Vanderstone," Mallory corrected. "One of Trudy Beekman's little cronies."

"Is she related to Glenda Gottrocks?" Pam quipped. "You know? From the Flintstones?"

"Well her mentality is rooted in the stone age," Mallory grumbled. "As well as her family connections. Connections which I desperately need to get back!"

"Nevertheless, I don't think this is the type of publicity we **need** during this crisis," Cyril spoke up. "Which let's be honest will backfire on you. Big time."

"What makes you say that?" Mallory asked.

"I've been paying attention all these years," Cyril gave her a look. "Where have **you** been?"

"Mallory, you haven't had an idea this bad since…" Lana thought. "I got it. The time you put machine guns in your desk."

"Machine guns…?" Mallory blinked. "When did I…? Oh….Right."

FLASHBACK!

Back in Mallory's old office in New York…Several seasons ago…

"Well Sterling once again you screwed up **another mission**!" Mallory snarled at her son while sitting behind a desk.

"Mother you're exaggerating," Archer shrugged as he casually drank some scotch.

"Several dead agents, two dead ambassadors, a stolen microfilm full of top secret data destroyed, a priceless painting destroyed and an international incident causing a rift between the United States and Lebanon is not an exaggeration!" Mallory shouted. "It is a full blow cock-up!"

"Phrasing," Archer snorted as he took another drink. "Besides if they were so worried about that damn painting they shouldn't have put the microfilm behind it in the first place."

"Again Sterling…" Mallory growled. "The KGB agents did that. Not **our side!"**

"Well it serves them right when I set them on fire with the painting," Archer shrugged. "I killed twenty KGB on the mission! That's got to be worth something."

"Correction," Mallory glared at her son. "You killed **six** KGB agents…"

"Still pretty bad ass," Archer interrupted.

"Five of our **own agents** ," Mallory added. "Three museum guards, An Interpol agent, a waiter…"

"He was late with my drink anyway," Archer interrupted again.

Mallory went on. "Some luckless idiot bystander when that chandelier fell on his head…"

"Is it my fault the walls were reinforced with some kind of dwarven metal?" Archer snapped. "I can't be responsible for how bullets ricochet Mother!"

"The American Ambassador's personal bodyguard," Mallory added. "The Lebanese Ambassador's brother's date…"

"I'm sure the escort agency will take care of her funeral arrangements," Archer quipped.

"And the British Ambassadors' wife's Pekinese!" Mallory shouted.

"Is **that** what that was?" Archer did a double take. "It looked like a hamster with a bad comb over."

"Not to mention destroying countless works of priceless art!" Mallory snapped. "Which I am being expected to pay for! Not that I actually will but…"

"So **what?** " Archer snapped. "The goal was to stop the KGB from getting that microfilm which I did!"

"By setting the painting it was in on fire!" Mallory snapped. "Along with one of the security guards!"

"It worked didn't it?" Archer snapped.

"Interesting choice of words," Mallory glared. "If you'd been at that briefing that morning in the first place instead of playing around with whores, none of the death and destruction you caused with your incompetence would have happened!"

"Technically those girls were **not whores**!" Archer barked. "Just some college girls on vacation. I want to be **very clear** on that. I didn't pay them! I just paid for their drinks! And for the room. And room service. You have any idea how expensive lamb can be? Seriously a good hotel can charge you and arm and a leg."

"I should take **your** arms and legs after what **you did**!" Mallory shouted. "Let's forget for a moment the loss of life of your fellow agents and all those innocent bystanders."

"You usually do."

"Shut up," Mallory glared. "Do you have any idea how much it's going to cost me in death benefits? My insurance rates are going to go through the roof!"

"We get death benefits?" Archer blinked.

"And now I'm out five seasoned agents!" Mallory snapped. "Great! I'm going to have to promote some of the lesser ones! Like Miss Gillette. Ugh. I can hear his girlish squeal now…"

"Seriously," Archer asked. "What kind of death benefits are we talking about?"

"We are talking about quality of your work!" Mallory snapped. "Or more accurately the **lack** of it!"

"Again Mother, I prevented the KGB from stealing that microfilm," Archer said smugly.

"WE WERE STEALING IT FROM **THEM!** " Mallory shouted.

"Oh," Archer blinked. "I didn't know that."

"YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN IF YOU HAD BEEN AT THE BRIEFING!" Mallory shouted. "Honestly Sterling! Sometimes I think you take advantage of my generous nature!"

Archer laughed. "You have a **generous** nature? Since when?"

"Since **shut the hell up!"** Mallory shouted. "Sterling you are starting to get a reputation in espionage. And not the good kind! Do you have **any idea** how your actions are a reflection on **me and this agency**?"

"No, but I'm sure you'll tell me," Archer poured himself another drink.

"It's not just the fact that you're an embarrassment to **me** ," Mallory glared at him. "I'm **used** to that. But you are now an embarrassment to this agency and the spy world in general! From Abu Dhabi to Zagreb the code name Duchess is synonymous with **disaster**!"

"I forgot about Zagreb," Archer blinked. "Man that was some wild party."

"Which you threw on my dime!" Mallory snapped.

"Several dimes actually," Archer smirked as he took another drink.

"Do you think this is **funny?** " Mallory was furious. "Do I **amuse** you? Am I a clown for **your amusement**?"

"What _literally_?" Archer blinked. "Because you dress too well for a clown. Well there was that one costume party you threw…"

Mallory snarled. "Your entire file is filled with blown covers, botched assassinations and failed missions. Everywhere you go you leave behind mayhem, astronomical bar tabs and venereal diseases!"

"And in Zagreb I left all three," Archer said smugly.

"AGGGHH!" Mallory let out a scream of frustration. "That's **it!"**

She pushed a button and two large machine gun barrels rose from her desk. "Uh oh…" Archer gulped. "I thought you were **kidding** about putting those in."

"Kid **this!** " Mallory pushed another button.

AK AK AK AKA KAAAAK AK!

"AAAH!" Archer ducked for cover as Mallory the machine guns shot at him. One shot broke his glass. "JESUS CHRIST MOTHER!"

THUNK! THUD!

"OW!" Mallory yelled.

"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU WOMAN?" Archer shouted as he poked out from behind a shot up chair with a gun in his hand.

"Well…Currently…" Mallory winced in pain. The recoil from the machine guns had shoved the desk back hard into a wall. Pinning Mallory to it. "My spleen appears to be crushed."

"Serves you right!" Archer snapped as he stood up. "Great! My drink's ruined! Thanks a lot Mother!"

"Damn," Mallory winced. "That had a bigger kick than I thought it would."

"You forgot about the kickback factor, didn't you?" Archer snorted. "See that desk isn't nearly heavy enough to withstand it from **two** machine guns of that size."

"Who are you? Hiram Maxim?" Mallory sneered. "Ow…"

"AAAHHHH!" Brett screamed. "I'VE BEEN SHOT AGAIN!"

"See?" Archer called out. "Told you about the ricochet factor."

"DAMN IT ARCHER!" Brett yelled.

"IT WASN'T ME THIS TIME!" Archer shouted. "Ha! You shot Brett! And half your office…"

"Can't have nice things," Mallory groaned in pain.

FLASHFORWARD!

"Fifty grand to my decorator, a trip to the emergency room and another round of forms to fill out for Brett's medical expenses later…" Mallory remembered. "All right, I admit **that** idea was **not** one of my better ones…"

"You had **better** ones?" Cheryl spoke up.

"Why the hell did you build her that in the first place?" Ray snapped at Krieger.

"What makes you think I did it?" Krieger asked defensively.

"Because nobody else is that bat shit crazy enough to do it!" Pam snapped.

"Fair enough," Krieger shrugged. "I wanted to make her happy."

"By giving her the ability to kill us all in one swoop?" Ray snapped.

"In hindsight, I should have considered that," Krieger admitted. "As well as the kickback factor."

"You **think**?" Mallory snapped. "I was at home for a week recuperating!"

"Oh yeah," Cheryl remembered. "That was the week Mr. Archer took over and we had a bitchin' nonstop party."

"Until Lana and Cyril ratted on us to Ms. Archer," Pam glared at them. "Killjoys."

"You let an ostrich loose in the break room!" Cyril snapped.

"That wasn't **us!** For once!" Cheryl protested. "That was one of Krieger's creepy interns. I want to say Josh. No. Jason? No…"

"Kenny," Krieger said.

"Kenny," Cheryl nodded. "Yeah that was his idea. God I thought I was having another groovy gummy freakout!"

"You **were** having a groovy gummy freak out!" Cyril snapped. "You set one of the toilets on fire!"

"Which is why we had to go get Mallory to come back to the office before it got completely destroyed!" Lana snapped.

"In hindsight that was Archer's fault," Ray spoke up. "He should have known better when Lana suggested that she and Cyril would go on a drink run."

"Another fifty grand to the carpet cleaners and plumbers to fix the damage," Mallory groaned. "And three of my best agents quit to join ODIN when I wouldn't pay for their medical expenses."

"To be fair I don't think our old medical plan covered ostrich attacks," Cyril shrugged.

"Our old medical plan didn't even cover band aids!" Ray snapped. "Four of our drones left that same week to get jobs at Starbucks for the health insurance! I wonder how they're doing?"

"Starting to see why we ran out of so many employees back at the old office," Pam admitted.

"You didn't ask Krieger to do any modifications to **this office** , did you?" Ray asked Mallory in a worried tone.

"Uh…" Mallory began.

"Yes, she did!" Krieger said cheerfully.

"Oh God no…" Cyril's face paled. "What did you **do?"**

"Oh God Mallory…" Lana groaned.

"This won't end well…" Ray winced.

"This might end in a fire!" Cheryl giggled happily.

"This is going to be like the machine gun incident, isn't it?" Pam sighed.

"It's **nothing** like the machine gun incident!" Mallory snapped. "I just told Krieger to add on some extra lights!"

"I'll show you…" Krieger pulled out a small device and pushed a button.

Suddenly the room was enveloped in a very bright light. "AAAAAHHH!" Cyril screamed. "I'M BLIND!"

"ME TOO!" Pam shouted.

"Oops," Krieger grumbled. "I forgot I left the setting on high…"

"How high?" Lana snapped. "Freaking Blinding Sun high?"

"Yeah…" Krieger winced as he kept his eyes shut. "In hindsight that was not a good setting."

"YOU THINK?" Mallory screamed. "Krieger you crazy Kraut…"

"GOD DAMN IT KRIEGER!" Ray screamed.

"THIS IS JUST LIKE THE GYPSY WOMAN SAID!" Cheryl screamed. "When she said I'd be blinded by the light I didn't think she meant it literally!"

"Maybe we should all start going to her?" Pam groaned.

"Way to go Mallory!" Lana snapped. "Now nobody but God can see your office!"

"I think it's too bright for even God to see," Ray groaned. "Krieger turn it off!"

"Okay I think this is the button that does it," Krieger fumbled with the controls. "Maybe…?"

" _Maybe?"_ Cyril shouted.

"It's going to take a few minutes for our eyes to recover," Krieger snapped.

"If they ever do," Pam groaned. "Great now we're a blind detective agency!"

"Well it's definitely a niche market," Cheryl moaned. "Hey! I smell smoke."

"So do I!" Lana sniffed keeping her eyes closed.

"Me too," Krieger sniffed. "Uh oh…"

"UH OH?" Cyril shouted. "It's **never** a **good thing** when **you** say **uh oh**!"

"Please tell me it's because we are all having a stroke," Pam groaned.

"I think I may have overloaded the circuits and wires with power," Krieger coughed as smoke filled the room. "Yes that's definitely what happened."

"MY OFFICE IS ON FIRE?" Mallory screamed as she stumbled around.

"I KNEW IT!" Cheryl squealed. "YAY!"

"NOT YAY YOU BRAIN DEAD BIMBO!" Mallory shouted.

"WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!" Pam screamed. "WE'RE ALL GONNA DIE!"

"WE'RE NOT GOING TO DIE!" Lana shouted. "IF I CAN FIND THE DAMN DOOR! OW!"

"WHERE THE HELL IS THE DAMN DOOR?" Mallory shouted.

"OW THAT'S MY FOOT!" Cyril shouted. "OKAY WHO'S FEELING ME UP?"

"Sorry, my bad," Ray said. "I was looking for the door."

"Typical," Mallory snorted. "NOW WHO'S FEELING **ME** UP?"

"Sorry," Pam said. "Looking for the door."

"I found the door but it won't open!" Cheryl screamed. "It's all hard and it won't move when I push it! MOVE DOOR MOVE!"

"That's a wall you're pushing on!" Pam snapped. "The door was still open when we came in!"

"Look for an open space!" Lana instructed. "It has to be around here somewhere."

"How can we look when we're all blind?" Ray snapped.

"FEEL AROUND! WHAT I HAVE TO THINK OF **EVERYTHING** AROUND HERE?" Lana snapped. "And as soon as the words left my mouth…"

"Krieger I swear to god…" Mallory growled. "WHOSE HAND IS ON MY BREAST?"

"Sorry," Pam apologized. "I was trying to feel up Lana that time."

"Degenerates and idiots!" Mallory snarled. "I'm surrounded by **degenerates** and **idiots!** "

"I FOUND THE DOOR!" Ray shouted. "HANG ON I'LL BE RIGHT BACK!"

WHOOSH!

CRASH!

"Okay running using super speed while blind is a **bad idea** …" Ray groaned.

"I'll tell you what's a bad idea!" Lana snapped. "Letting Krieger install weird devices in your office!"

"OH GIVE IT A REST NANCY NAG!" Mallory shouted. "AND WHO'S FEELING ME UP NOW?"

"Sorry," Cyril apologized. "I was looking for the door."

"Who are you kidding?" Cheryl scoffed. "You were looking for Lana's breasts and everyone knows it!"

"WHAT?" Lana barked.

"No, I wasn't!" Cyril protested feebly.

"The hell you weren't you clingly little…" Lana snapped. "Is your hand on my ass!"

"That would be me," Pam called out. "Whomp, whomp!"

"I'll whomp, whomp you…." Lana coughed. "The smoke is getting worse. Get on the floor. OW! GET OFF ME!"

"Sorry," Cyril said. "Thought you were the floor…OW!"

"Sorry!" Lana snapped. "Though you were a punching bag!"

"Cyril I'm gonna borrow one of your lines," Ray ran in with a fire extinguisher. "Suppressing fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiirrreeeee!"

FOOOOOOOOOOOOM!

"AAAH!" Mallory shouted. "You ass! You're spraying it all over me!"

"Bet that's not the first time Ray's heard **that line** ," Pam called out.

"Inappropes!" Ray snapped. "And the lights are off. And the fire is out. It wasn't a big one."

"But I still can't see!" Cheryl screamed. "I still can't see! I'm blind! I'm blind! I'm blind!"

"Open your eyes…" Pam glared at Cheryl.

Cheryl did so. "Oh. I can see now…Granted it's mostly dots…"

"I think some of that is carpet stains," Lana winced.

"Told you white was a bad choice," Ray shrugged.

"YOU ARE PAYING FOR THIS!" Cyril shouted at Mallory. "As well as my optometrist's bill."

"Can't have nice things," Mallory sighed.


End file.
